


Why Him?

by sladdertacka



Series: Why Him? [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Adopted Children, Adoption, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Conversations, Boys In Love, Brothers, Bunnyribbit (referenced), Childhood Trauma, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Cis Male Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Family, Family Dinners, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Happy Ending, Holidays, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, In-Laws, Little Sisters, M/M, Married Couple, Married Life, Meeting the Parents, Mercy76 (referenced), New Year's Eve, One Big Happy Family, Past Character Death, Sisters, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-03 23:23:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12758328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sladdertacka/pseuds/sladdertacka
Summary: In which Mako and Jamison Rutledge-Fawkes invite their families over for Christmas, spending two weeks trapped between their warring parents and eight siblings. Amidst shocking revelations, unexpected surprises and overall parental disapproval, they just about manage to make it a merry Christmas afterall.





	1. Chapter 1

"They're 'ere!" Jamison exclaimed, quickly wiping his hands on his jeans as he bounded into the livingroom where the proud groom was sitting quietly, trying to forget that they had invited their families over for Christmas. Together. _At the same time_.

 

Only _just_ suppressing a groan, Mako dragged himself to his feet, spared his blushing br- er, groom? a woeful glance and joined him at the front door. Maniacal grin, overly enthusiastic waving, practically vibrating with excitement. It was hard not to smile, really. But he couldn't allow himself to crack- he had a first impression to make, afterall.

 

The Fawkes' were the first to arrive, bright red car with the vinyl stick man family stickers in the rear window in their driveway, and there were Jamison's parents, three brothers and sister. Just right there in their hall. Blond hair and toothy smiles all round. Polite greetings were exchanged, the usual 'har-har are you getting taller?' and 'hows the weather up there?' from this also remarkably tall family.

 

"If you guys could have kids they'd be like _Hagrid!_ " was a new one, courtesy of his sister-in-law, but apparently Mako was the only one feeling awkward, lost to the chatter of his... family.

 

The doorbell heralded even _more_ fun, when Mako was greeted by the stoic faces of his parents and four of his younger siblings. Which, coincidentally, was four more people than they had rooms made up for.

 

Jamison was right there behind him to voice this fact, and to remind them that they _did_ ask for RSVP when they called to invite them, but all he got for his trouble was a disinterested grunt from his father and unceremoniously nudged aside as they filtered into the hall. He shot Mako a wounded look, but he didn't complain, they didn't need a repeat of the stand-off at their wedding reception. The one that earned them a strongly-worded RSVP for their housewarming party. Mako felt a stab of guilt, staring right into those amber puppy dog eyes, but the moment had long passed. They were already pushing past them into the kitchen, where everyone was standing around drinking coffee, well beyond Mako's defense.

 

"How long they stayin' fer again?" He scowled, folding his arms.

 

"Two weeks." He huffed. "They leave on the 4th."

 

"Well, I'll see ya next year."

 

He chuckled under his breath as he followed behind him into the kitchen, where their families were becoming reacquainted.

 

"Mum, dad, you remember Mr. and Mrs. Rutledge..."

 

"James and Amber." Mrs. Fawkes reintroduced, shaking their hands, which Mako's parents begrudgingly accepted.

 

After an awkward drawn out silence where a second introduction should have been, the Fawkes' decided to _graciously ignore_ the decidedly ungracious snubbing and carry on.

 

"Uh, this is Asher..." Amber smiled, motioning to a tall, skinny, slightly prettier Jamison with much longer hair. Pretty Jamison waved and offered a polite smile. "... And Kai..." Slightly shorter, lankier, baby-faced Jamison had a decidedly Jamison-like grin to offer. "This is Serafina," The shortest and most female Jamison greeted them with a sweet smile, and all that was left was the tallest, most rugged Jamison, with the second-neatest haircut next to their father, and undoubtedly the eldest, surely the only Fawkes spawn to receive the Rutledge seal of approval, "And this is Phoenix."

 

Mako knew they were in for a _treat_ when his parents snorted upon hearing Jamison's older brother's name. They did the same thing at the wedding. For a second, Mako thought the Fawkes' would know to just skip that one when his parents had finally forgotten that Jamison had the most ordinary name of the bunch, _then_ he remembered that his parents were in no way easy to get along with and had already proven themselves the biggest assholes in the universe in the five minutes they'd been here.

 

Jamison shared the same look of indignation as his family. Then that look was aimed at Mako, times seven. Oh, right, he was supposed to keep the peace.

 

"What's wrong with that?" He demanded, voice level, facing his parents.

 

Another _painfully_ drawn out silence, tension you could cut with a knife, Mako had to come to terms with the fact that his life had become a sitcom. The kind that's cancelled partway into its first season because it just makes the viewers uncomfortable. He hoped two weeks was enough for a Rutledge-family-redemption arc.

 

"It's not." Mrs. Rutledge finally conceded. "You have a lovely family." She smiled, however forced, at Amber. "I'm Joyce, this is my husband, Mako," She cleared her throat. "Mako is our eldest child, these are our youngest..." She motioned in order, "Oliver," Formerly the third of Mako's once five sisters, now the eleventh of twelve brothers. "Kathleen," The third of four sisters. "Isla," The fourth. "... And William." The baby of the family, at thirteen years old, just ecstatic that Jamison's sister was ten months and eighteen days younger. Not even a full year. Nobody else was as amazed as he was, but that didn't stop him bragging. For once, _not_ the baby.

 

"There, all introduced." Mako nodded.

 

"When do we eat?" Kai asked. Mako was amazed he looked up from his phone long enough to remember where he was.

 

"It's 2 o' clock." Jamison answered incredulously, like he wasn't raised with the human garbage disposal standing in their kitchen.

 

"I'm hungry too!" Serafina interjected. "We missed dinner driving here."

 

Mako shrugged, not wanting to gang up on the love of his life, _but_... "We missed dinner, too."

 

"... Alright. Fine. What d'ya wanna eat?" He was glaring right at him, but Mako was more inclined to dealing with his lanky, totally-more-cute-than-deadly wrath on a full stomach.

 

"Are _you_ cooking...?" Mrs. Rutledge asked.

 

Mako knew she didn't mean to be rude, or demeaning, _but_...

 

"Yes." He snapped. Then deep breaths, happy place... "Yes." Much calmer. Even though he was planning to order food, and had instead resigned himself to even more stress.

 

"Living room." Mako ushered them out quickly, there was a TV in there, they could all just ignore each other for two weeks and go home egos intact.

 

Alone at last, he gave his husband a rare display of sympathy and pulled him into one of his slightly less rare hugs.

 

"Great. Thanks. So, uh... What d'we eat?"

 

He shrugged. They _could_ still just order food, it's not like anyone else wouldn't if they had twelve guests for a fortnight, but the walls were thin and everyone had the privilege of listening to his parents criticising everything. Their favourite topic of the day was Jamison. Right now, specifically, his food. They hadn't tasted _anything_ he'd cooked yet, ever, despite the three years of dating and further two years of friendship and seven months of marriage, but that wasn't going to stop them pointing out every flaw of their kitchen and Jamison's prosthetics. _Those_ were a sore spot. A _big_ one. He was _just_ about to go in there and set them straight, but a hand on his arm pulled him back and his beloved just shook his head and told him to let it go.

 

Now _that_ was not like him. At all. He was plotting.

 

"What?" Mako asked, inspecting him closely.

 

"Jus' leave it." He said. "No point, mate," He sighed. "They'll jus' think even less a' me if ya try."

 

"Mhm." He nodded slowly, it hurt to hear him say that, hurt even more to know it was probably true, at least until they got to know him better, grew to trust him, but he knew there was more going on up there. "So what are you gonna put in their food?"

 

"I'm gonna buy their love with me cookin', what else? Worked on you, didn' it?" He grinned. "Weren't nothin' on ya until ya met me."

 

That bastard.

 

"Mhm."

 

"Aw, don't give me that. Ya love me. Weren't nothin' on me either, 'til you happened." He held his arm out between them, splaying his fingers, giving them a wiggle, showing off the two gold rings.

 

"Still a skinny bitch." He replied, exiting the kitchen after his dearest's face fell.

 

"Oi! Come back 'ere!" He chased after him, grabbing him in the hall and all but throwing himself at him. That brought back some memories.

 

Good times.

 

Only _now_ they were sharing their home with twelve close relatives, none of whom needed to know the intimacies of their sex life, so he could only briefly indulge himself before putting him down for about the first time in their marriage. Not their relationship, mind. Only, in the past, they could could come home, or find a dark alley, or park in an empty lot, or otherwise scar their company for life. Now they had a two week fucking ban. Mako still hoped his parents would quit the holiday in the next few days, _but_ that meant they hated his husband, and he didn't want to be stuck between his warring family for the rest of his life.

 

Stuck between three storeys of relatives, four of whom did _not_ get along. And those four just happened to share the third floor. Why did he agree to this, again?

 

At least, things had started to calm down a little, bit by bit, aided by the TV, Jamison's history and crime documentaries were a hit, since no one could find the remote. The promise of food did a lot to dissuade any arguments, and the kids had been distracted for a good twenty minutes trying to find more table space for four people. They settled on a table they found in the garage, which they took another hour and a bit hosing down in the back yard until Mr. and Mrs. Rutledge were satisfied, and four chairs in the dining room that Jamison had sworn when they bought them would come in handy. And now he wouldn't be allowed to forget that he'd been right in every future decision they'd make for the rest of their natural lives.

 

With the tables set up ready, they filtered into the dining room and took their seats. Jamison and Mako got each end of the dining table, their parents sitting beside them on their respective ends and the younger kids inbetween. The older kids got the new table, trusted not to destroy anything until the end of dinner.

 

Mako excused himself, confident there wouldn't be an outright war in his absence, to aid his beloved in the kitchen. He was wearing his _Trophy Husband_ apron and stirring a pot of sauce with one hand, shaking a colander full of pasta in the other, looking positively overwhelmed by the amount of food he'd just made. As though there _wasn't_ a small army in the next room.

 

"Give me an 'and, Roadie, grab some plates an' start shovelin' pasta onto 'em."

 

He did as he was told, and despite having all but hung up his leather jacket and bike since getting married, approved that his nickname was alive and well.

 

They worked out a system. Put spaghetti onto plate, two at a time, hold them in front of Jamison who then administers bolognese, carry into dining room, serve. Food was out in under ten minutes, _and_ Jamison didn't catch any of his parents' smirking. Perfect.

 

Dinner went off without a hitch. To a point.

 

They sat and ate, chatting quietly, and otherwise acting like the other parties weren't there at all. Until the questions started.

 

"So," Amber began. "You named Mako after yourself?" She asked his father, with a polite smile.

 

"Mhm." He grunted, not even looking up.

 

"Food's good, right?" Mako offered, hoping they would take the hint.

 

"... Lovely." His mother agreed. His father said nothing.

 

"Great as always." Jamison's father praised.

 

"Ta." He smiled, otherwise being unusually quiet.

 

"How'd you lose your leg?" Mako's youngest brother, William, asked. Cue crushing silence.

 

"We don't dicuss personal tragedies in front of company." Jamison's _older younger_ brother, Asher, quipped with a completely straight face. Mako couldn't help it, he snorted. Other than Jamison's _younger younger_ brother, Kai, and the Jamison himself, no one else seemed amused.

 

"'S fine." He shrugged. "I lost me leg in an accident."

 

"What kind?" William asked, anticipating some gory details. At the dinner table.

 

"The _explosive_ kind."

 

"You blew it up?!"

 

"... Sort of." He straightened up, ready to tell the story, one that everyone, _everyone_ , from fresh acquaintances, to the barista in the café near work, to his own family, knew a completely different version of. Mako wasn't even sure _he_ knew the real story of how he blew it off. If it even _was_ blown off. "Right, so there I was, just about your age,"

 

"Jamie, honey, maybe not the best dinner conversation..." Amber gently reminded him, knowing well enough that he could, _and would_ , go full B movie on them.

 

"... I'll tell ya later." He grinned, going back to his meal. "How's the food?"

 

Through a litany of compliments, Mako locked eyes with his glowering parents in silent understanding of _don't you dare shit on his plate and tell me it's chocolate pudding._

 

"It's lovely." Joyce smiled politely.

 

Jamison's genuine thanks made Mako equal parts guilty and relieved that he hadn't figured out that, when his mother said something was _lovely_ , she may as well be scraping dog shit off her shoe. Neither of his parents were known for praise, they were known for _boasting_ and looking down their noses at everybody else. It wasn't that they thought they were at the top of the heirarchy, starting a family just out of their teens on a farm in buttfuck nowhere. It was just them, seventeen kids, nine chickens, a pig and just enough food to feed them, just enough left over to sell at the market an hour from their home, scraping by. _That_ was where the inflated self-worth came from, good, old-fashioned hard work. Plus, with so many children, at least _one_ was guaranteed bragging rights. One of his brothers was some kind of scientist, another was a doctor, one of his sisters was doing _something_ with architecture (she'd told him over the phone a few weeks ago, but he didn't get much of it) and his other sister had gone back to university after having her daughter. He wasn't the first to get married (or to marry another man), he wouldn't be the first to provide any grandchildren, and, other than the stint with the biker gang (where he'd met his husband, naturally, they also provided the catering for their wedding) he hadn't really done anything worth gloating about.

 

Not that it stopped them. Maybe it was because he was their first born, and the guinea pig for all their parental discipline? It was the same for the Fawkes', except that, instead of being their firstborn, he was their first wedding, their first engagement, their first semi-longterm relationship, and technically the first boy brought home to meet the family. Now _that_ was a fun story.

 

Seeing their shocked faces when their 20 year old waltzed in with a 43 year old trailing behind, bikes on the driveway, all dolled up in their leathers, _Roadhog_ and _Junkrat_ emblazoned on the back. Nothing more reassuring than showing up like _Hey, mum, you sent me off to college twice and then I joined a gang!_

 

Two years later, after spending half his time crashing at their house anyway, it was announced over dinner. _Announced_ meaning Jamison had just casually blurted it out while he was reaching for the salt. They did the engagement a little more formal, mind. Oh, wait, they hadn't actually _told_ anyone that story yet.

 

"So, how did you two get engaged? You never did tell us, Jamie." There it was, right on cue, Amber deus ex machina, here to suspiciously move the plot forward. Weird. Almost like fate. Almost like fate got writers block, or something.

 

" _Well_ ," He began, then cleared his throat. "Right. So there I was..." Mako chuckled quietly to himself. Every inconsequential story began _this_ enthusiastically. "Standin' under tha' lights by tha' Waltzers at this fair, jus' watchin' people walk by." He was gesturing with his hands as he spoke, then he backtracked to fill that gaping plothole he'd left them with. "... The line was massive, that's why we weren't on 'em." Can't have a good story without consistency. "We went to get fairy floss, an' we had to wait _ages_ for that, too. They 'ad fireworks, but we couldn' see 'em, so we went on tha' big wheel, an' at tha' top he pulls out a ring, an' asks me to marry 'im."

 

Mako's mother shot his father a look, one that graciously went unnoticed by everyone else present, who found it simply _adorable_. He'd planned to get down on one knee, make a big thing of it, as out-of-character that would have been. But his fiancé-to-be was adamant he wanted to watch the fireworks, and had his heart set on the wheel, but the understated question-popping was right up his alley. It all worked out in the end, he wifed him either way.

 

He joined a motorcycle gang and met some teenaged skinny mass of energy, all but moved in with the 20 year old skinny mass of energy (well, with his parents), got asked out by a shitfaced 22 year old (and didn't _actually_ answer, but he woke up the next morning calling him his boyfriend, and he didn't shoot him down), proposed to a 24 year old on a ferris wheel at a crappy fairground in the early winter, then married the 25 year old _love of his damn life_ in May. He wasn't going anywhere, no matter what his parents said when they thought he couldn't hear. They were two grown adults, nobody holding anyone back, no manipulation, no lapse of judgement. He wouldn't turn his back on his family, but Jamison _was_ family now, and he wouldn't let them come between them. He wasn't exactly the golden child to begin with, anyway, despite them acting like he was suddenly their perfect angel led astray by the evil pyromaniac at the same dinner table.

 

"I was in jail." He blurted out, stunning everyone.

 

"... Jamison, did you know about this?" Amber asked quietly, shocked.

 

"Uh... Yeah..." He shot him an incredulous look. He had no idea why he'd said that, either. He couldn't exactly play it off as a joke, either, because it would just come out eventually.

 

No one really knew what to say. Except for Kai, of course, who was eagerly asking _why_.

 

"... Robbery." He _eventually_ explained. He was better off _not_ elaborating further. He quietly resumed eating, cutlery scraping the plate in deafening silence, all eyes on him. Fuck.

 

His parents were shaking their heads and _tsk_ ing, admonishing him for telling everyone _their_ darkest secret. At least he could say he was the only one of his siblings to be imprisoned.

 

"How long where ya there for?" Kai asked, as enthusiastic as ever.

 

"Three years." He grunted, refusing to lift his head and face the music.

 

"How long ago?"

 

"Twenty years." It was general, he was almost 30 when he was incarcerated, but it would do.

 

"What did ya steal?"

 

"Nothin'." _Ohhh boy_. "... Got caught."

 

"... So why'd ya do three years if ya didn' steal anythin'?"

 

 _Here it comes_. "Had a gun."

 

There it was. He'd done it. Jamison's parents would make him file for divorce, he'd lose the house, he'd have to go back to the club and casual hook-ups and life on the road. He wasn't sure he could do that after meeting Jamison. Especially the hook-ups.

 

He could see it now, mournfully driving past the house on his chopper five times a day trying to catch his ex-husband's eye, as time went on he'd see his new family, some tall Swedish model built like a Greek god in the window, arms around _his_ Jamison, then there'd be kids and they'd all be sitting around a Christmas tree and _his_ Jamison would be laughing and putting his arm around Thor and everything would be perfect _without him_.

 

"Mako?"

 

 _Wait, wouldn't Thor be Norwegian?_ "Mako." _Old Norse... Isn't that Norway now?_ "Mako!" _Fuck, I should have paid more attention in geography... Or history?_ " ** _Mako!_** "

 

"Huh?"

 

"Thought I'd lost ya for a minute there..." He was standing in the kitchen, holding plates, and the dining room had been evacuated. Where had the last ten minutes gone?

 

"They didn't want dessert?"

 

"Afta'  _that_ revelation? Nah. More fer later, though."

 

"... Sorry." He huffed.

 

"Fer what?"

 

"Makin' your parents want you to divorce me and marry Thor instead."

 

"... _What?_ " He hollered, bent double laughing.

 

He scowled, suddenly defensive. "I went to jail for armed robbery, I'm twenty years older than you and I have a motorcycle. I'm surprised they let us get this far."

 

"An' Ash almost did five fer Class B possession! They'll get over it, ya didn' _kill_ anyone!"

 

Oh. Right. He knew that. He was there when he was arrested. Hell, he _got_ it from the club. He didn't rat them out and bought himself protection, said he was approached by a stranger outside a club. They pulled some strings, he got off light, they paid the fine and it went away. His parents _still_  think it was a one-time lapse of judgement, which Mako still finds amusing.

 

"So what's this _Thor_ business?" He asked, chuckling.

 

"You'd marry some Swedish model and have loads of kids and I'd be circling the block trying to win ya back."

 

"Isn't Thor s'posed to be Norwegian?"

 

"That's what I said."

 

They laughed together, Mako feeling relieved, if a little embarrassed, and he pulled Jamison in close. His hair was rough under his cheek and was irritating his nose, and his prosthetic dug into his side, same as always, but he never pushed him away or let go.

 

"Me parents aren't gonna make me divorce ya. But they _are_ waitin' fer grandkids so don't go temptin' fate." He grinned.

 

"Couldn't anyway..." He sighed, deflated.

 

The older of Mako's sisters, Kathleen, emerged, looking for a drink, and they immediately split and tried to look busy.

 

"... I _did_ hear you." She eyed them, opening the fridge. "Don't mind me." She smiled, reaching in for some orange juice.

 

Jamison cleared his throat and spoke lower, like it would stop her from hearing them. "Why?"

 

"Criminal record, they wouldn't give us one." He said simply, under his breath.

 

"That's actually not true." She said, filling her glass. "You didn't pull a gun on a kid, did you?"

 

"No."

 

"If you wanted to adopt, you'd need to be upfront. Tell them about your time in the slammer, why, how long ago, and how you've changed. They won't deny you for a criminal record, _as long_ as it wasn't against a kid."

 

They were quiet, looking from each other, to her, to the floor. She put the carton away, smiled and headed back to the livingroom.

 

They hadn't actually talked about this before. Not really. They'd mentioned it a few times, briefly, as a _maybe_ , not an _actual_ possibility that they _actually_ considered.

 

"I mean... We _could_..." Jamison began, looking to him.

 

"We could try." He shrugged. He didn't want to get his own hopes up, he didn't want to see those amber eyes light up in excitement or see the corners of his mouth twitch up in anticipation or see him tense and shake with enthusiasm and know his mind was racing and he was imagining their family, waking up every morning to a load of kids and all the birthday parties and Christmasses and first steps and first words and first days of school...

 

"We _could_ try!" Eyes wide, grinning wider, practically vibrating and definitely naming their prospective children.

 

"We'll look up an agency?" He suggested, quietly.

 

He nodded wildly, all but throwing himself at him, head pressed against his chest.

 

He spoke so quietly that Mako _almost_ missed it. "... Let's have a baby."

 

These two weeks just got even more stressful.


	2. Chapter 2

The first night was always the hardest.

  
They only had three spare bedrooms, two with double beds and one with two bunk beds. What they _did_ have were two sofas, that _just so happened_ to be pull-out beds. That was _also_ Jamison's call, and _another_ thing that would be held against him in every future argument they were going to have. The only problem was who was going to be sleeping where. Their parents had the two bedrooms on the top floor, naturally, but they had eight siblings and a possible world war three brewing. Mako's parents were adamant that Jamison's siblings should sleep in the living room, and the whole evening was about to go sour, when Asher helpfully suggested that the kids take the bedroom and they would just sleep downstairs. Mako's parents had no rebuttal, problem solved. Until five minutes later, and everyone had calmed down, and Joyce had finally thought of a reason to keep tensions running high.

  
"That's _completely_ inappropriate, _his_ brothers are too _old_ to be sharing a room with my daughters!"

  
" _Mum_." Kathleen hissed.

  
"Sorry, Oliver, you know what I mean." She waved her hand dismissively. Now, on top of all the seething anger, it was also _awkward as all hell_.

  
" _Ash_ is actually _younger_ than your _son_ ," Jamison retorted. "An' they hafta sleep _somewhere_."

  
She was scowling. "How old's the other one, then?"

  
" _Phoenix_ is twenty seven."

  
"See?" She was smug, arms folded.

  
"Alright, then, I'll sleep in the kids' room and Oliver can share with _Kai_." Kathleen rebuked.

  
Joyce didn't respond. Mako chuckled to himself, earning a sharp look, but there was nothing more she could say.

 

 

  
At 9pm, everyone was eager to pick their beds, and Mako and Jamison were eager to get the arguments out of the way before they were too tired to deal with them. The kids were easy enough, Kai and Serafina wanted top bunks and Isla and William wanted bottom bunks. The boys took the left side of the room, and the girls the right. Their parents weren't so easy. James and Amber were trying their best to be accomodating toward Mako and Joyce, and doing all they could to avoid confrontation and putting the stress of keeping everything under control on their son. Jamison's parents were the first upstairs, and therefore first to pick their room. They chose the one at the front of the house, coincidentally also the bigger of the two. When Mako's parents made it upstairs, they _completely_ ignored Jamison's explanation that his parents had chosen already and they would be in the bedroom at the back of the house and demanded the bigger room.

  
"You see, my husband has terrible arthritis and-"

  
"So?" Mako's father grunted.

  
"... Well, in the front bedroom there's more _space_ around the bed, so-"

  
"We're older." Joyce argued.

  
"... It's just, it would be hard for me to get out of the bed in the back room, I have a bad back as well and-"

  
"Goodnight." Door slams, they're left standing on the landing in disbelief.

  
Mako was, quite frankly, done with their shit. But Amber told him it was fine, they'd make do, and retired for the night, too drained to watch Christmas movies downstairs with them and the kids.

  
Jamison sighed and headed downstairs, Mako trailing behind.

 

 

 

The rest of the night was enjoyed in relative peace. They and their siblings set up the pull-out beds, crowded on together to watch a few movies, a few inappropriate shows (since the good role models had all gone to bed) and raided the fridge. They didn't end up going to bed until about 2am, which they ended up regretting when they remembered that, so long as their parents were in the house, they would _not_ be having a lie-in anytime soon.

  
The next morning, same as always, Mako was up bright and early, while his dearly beloved had his much-needed beauty sleep. He showered while none of the kids were up to hog the bathroom, got dressed, made some coffee and sat alone in the dining room. It was 9:03am, and his parents still hadn't come downstairs. He chuckled when he realised they were avoiding everyone.

  
It wasn't until 9:47am that they finally emerged, and Jamison was alive and kicking. James and Amber had followed ten minutes later, after rousing the kids and giving the living room door a knock. Back in the kitchen, Jamison was preparing a very ambitious breakfast buffet: two huge bowls of chopped fruit, about a whole loaf of toast, an assortment of cereal and what Mako thought was an excessive amount of bacon, eggs, pancakes, waffles and porridge.

  
Breakfast was mercifully less awkward than last nights dinner. There was something for everyone, and even his parents helped themselves to some fruit and toast after their porridge. Mako was actually surprised that they managed to clear the table. He thought they'd be serving leftovers for the next week.

  
"How's tha' food?" He asked, beaming.

  
_Please don't ruin the morning, please don't ruin the holiday, please don't ruin Christmas, please don't-_

  
_"_ Splendid." Joyce nodded. A genuine compliment. Mako was floored.

  
"Cheers!"

  
"Lovely, thank you, Jamie." Amber smiled, stacking plates.

  
Taking the hint, Mako rose to his feet and began clearing the table, giving Jamison a nod that said _you go ahead and do something fun, I got this._ Taking the hint, he excitedly led the kids upstairs, he had something _jus' amazin', you'll see!_ to show them.

  
He marched all seven, sans Phoenix, into the games room, what was advertised as a fifth bedroom that had instead been fitted with a huge flatscreen, beanbag chairs, a fluffy rug and more games consoles than Mako could name. There was also a glass case full of games, figurines and manuals, and a cabinet with a desktop computer inside. Not as fancy as the one Jamison had in his room, mind, but the room was directly above the kitchen and Mako could hear seven distinctly excited voices. Great, seven down. Now if they could just get their parents completely content to ignore each other for the remainder of their trip, it would be perfect.

  
His mother shot him an inquisitive look.

  
"Big TV."

  
"Ah."

 

Mako had _just_ managed to relax when Joyce delicately reminded him...

  
"You didn't show us the rest of the house."

  
"S'a house."

  
She gave him a _mum look_ , effectively telling him he had no say in the matter. She was getting the grand tour and that was _final_.

  
"This is the living room." He didn't even stand. "You've been in the kitchen. You've seen the dining room. You've been upstairs."

  
" _Mako_." She insisted, voice stern.

  
He sighed. Alright, fine, he'd play ball, but Jamison was coming too. Aside from not wanting to be alone with his parents, it was a bonding exercise.

  
They'd already seen the third floor, so they moved their disapproval to the second floor, first in the games room (a waste of space, time and money), then in the kids' room (too small, too messy, the furniture was too cheap­) and finally the master bedroom, the largest bedroom in the house. There was a[n admittedly extravagant] king size bed against the far wall and a 70" TV set up at the bottom, a huge walk-in closet (it was huge because it had a bathroom in it), and Jamison's personal desktop computer. Mako didn't understand the three monitors either, _but what Jamie wanted Jamie got_. His parents _obviously_ didn't approve. They also didn't question how they could afford everything they had, which he was grateful for, because he had no cover story. Jamison dealt with the plans, the disguises and the cover stories. Only now they were comfortably retired, settled down and _planning to start a family together_.

  
After covering all five bathrooms, the final stop of the tour was the garage. Other than his bike (and Jamison's sidecar), was his husband's workshop and all his projects. Most, especially the more _explosive_ ones, were locked away in a safe, away from prying eyes and untrained fingers. Mako was floored when they were actually _impressed_ by it.

  
"This is exceptional, Mako," His father said, inspecting some blueprints closely. "I'd love to see some finished work."

 

Jamison was brimming with pride, they actually _liked_ something he did, even though they didn't compliment _him_ directly.

 

When Joyce demanded to see the shed, they understood why.

 

Inside was Mako's art workshop, and they immediately turned their noses up at it.

  
"So _this_ is what he does..." Joyce sneered. "Does he not have a _real_ job?"

  
"Wha-?" Jamison began, immediately cut off.

  
"Hm... Shabby..." His father admonished, purposely smearing the surface of a piece Mako had recently worked on.

  
" _This ain't mine_." He scowled. "An' ya jus' _ruined_ Mako's paintin'!"

  
They were visibly taken aback.

  
"Well... It's good to have a _hobby_ ," Joyce backtracked. "But I'd much prefer you focus on-"

  
"The garage is _mine_." He sneered. "Is' all _mine_."

  
He stormed out before they could defend themselves and suddenly find fault with what they'd just called _exceptional_ because it wasn't what their _precious little Mako_ had made, it was what that _evil freaky bastard Jamison who somehow tricked their son into marrying him and was somehow ruining his life_ had built.

  
Mako sighed and shook his head. "What is your _fucking_ problem?" He growled.

  
They didn't have an answer, so he just let them be. Fuck them, he was _done_.

 

  
Things were still _awkward as fuck_ , as Mako put it, after dinner. Mako had cooked, since Jamison was still too pissed off to do _anything_ right now, and it was sub-par to say the least. Mako knew it, everyone knew it, but they were too polite to complain. That, and it was _still_ awkward as fuck. They were sitting around the table like nothing had happened, the only difference being nobody even spoke. Kathleen offered to wash up after, and Oliver elected to join her, just to get out of their way, where they wouldn't have to deal with the crushing tension surrounding their parents.

Amber was the first to make a suggestion, being that they go to the winter markets before they close for Christmas. She also suggested they eat out after, sparing everyone from Mako's cooking and eating in awkward silence again. Nobody had any objections, so they set out around 1pm.

 

  
The market was busy, three days before Christmas, but everyone was secretly grateful for the distraction. They got some last-minute stocking fillers and additional gifts, and offered each other the time to just split up and cool off as far away from each other as they liked- as long as they met up again at the _Starbucks_ near the clock tower at 4pm. That gave them almost two hours to slip away, maybe find an empty stall somewhere...

  
Instead, they wound up in an art gallery, with hardly anybody around, standing in front of a huge sign declaring:

 

>   
>  **Art Exhibition**  
>  **February 16th-22nd**  
>  **Displaying Local Artists**

  
And, in the fine print, ***Volunteers needed, apply at desk with portfolio, applications close December 24th at 7pm**

  
" 'Ere, Roadie," Jamison grinned. " _You_ should sign up!"

  
"Maybe." He shrugged, humouring him. He didn't have a portfolio with him anyway.

  
"We can come back tomorra, wi' ya portfolio!"

  
Fuck.

  
He shook his head. "It'll be busy."

  
"Look around, Roadie, ya think there'll be even _more_ people tomorra? _Two days_ before Christmas?"

  
He couldn't think of any more excuses. Oh, wait.

  
"M'parents wouldn't come back, and we can't leave 'em there."

  
"... So we'll go back fer ya portfolio _now_! While everyone's 'ere! We got time!"

  
_Fuck_.

  
"Tomorrow." He grunted. He'd rather face their wrath _later_ , rather than sooner.

  
Satisfied, they moved on, perusing the art on the walls and the very modern, very confusing, sculptures on display. It was _nothing_ like Mako's work, and therefore no point in even coming back to apply _And be rejected._ but Jamison would not be discouraged. It was quite sweet, really, having someone believe in him so fiercely that they couldn't even see sense.

  
Their next stop, thankfully, _was_ that empty stall that Mako had his heart set on, doing wonders to completely eradicate their stress, and distract them from the fact it four o' clock had come and gone and their parents would probably be knee deep in civil war by now.

  
And boy, were they surprised when they finally made it back to _Starbucks_ , tails between their legs and maybe a _slight_ limp, their mothers were _laughing_. _With_ each _other_. Their fathers weren't even at the table, and only Kathleen and Isla were even in the café. Did they forget to set their clocks forward and somehow not notice for weeks, or had the world _actually_ gone insane?

  
"Err... Mum?"

  
"Jamie! We let the kids run off again, they weren't done shopping." She smiled. "Did you boys have fun?"

  
"Uh, somethin' like that, yeah..." His brows were furrowed in confusion, _absolutely adorable confusion_ , when Amber finally filled them in on what the everloving _fuck_ was going on.

  
"We met up at the bar, isn't that funny?" That explains it.

  
"If yer 'avin fun by ya'selves, we'll jus' be off then..." He began, inching back toward the doors. "Missed a coupla' things in tha' rush ta' get 'ere, ya know..." He giggled nervously. Subtlety? Never heard of her.

  
Their mothers waved them away, still smiling, still happy, so they left before it could all go to shit. Then they had free reign, to do whatever they wanted, maybe even pay the stall a visit again, but it was Jamison's turn to pick where they went, _where they did it_ , but he was in the mood for shopping, not shagging, so he was dragged through the huge shopping mall instead. _Great_.

 

 

  
In the seat of shame inside a three storey _Primark_ , he was reunited with Asher and Phoenix, the latter of whom was trying to conceal the fact his bag was full of decidedly _un_ safe for work gifts for the _fiancée_ he probably mentioned _twice_ since he got here, and whom Mako was still uncertain even existed. Ah, to be young.

  
"Alright, Mako." Asher grinned, hands in the pockets of his khaki military jacket with the title of what Mako knew to be the most popular _Sex Pistols_ album title emblazoned on the back. His cheeks and nose were red, eyes slightly watery, and his long blond hair was all over the place- he'd been outside until only recently, and, judging by the smell, Mako knew _exactly_ what he'd been doing out there.

  
"Alright." He nodded. "Might wanna buy some sunglasses, before we head back." He hinted.

  
Obviously _not_ expecting to be caught out, he bridled, as though Mako _hadn't_ been in the club he'd been scoring from for years. It was cute, in a funny, little-kid-getting-caught-with-a-hand-in-the-cookie-jar kind of way.

  
"So," He smirked. "This for your _fiancée_..." He motioned down with his eyes, at Phoenix's haul. "... Or is it for _you_?"

  
He scowled. "It's for _Emma_ , _obviously_."

  
"That's a _lot_ of underwear for just _one_ girl, Nix." Asher grinned.

  
" _Nix_?" Mako snorted. "Thought yer mum called ya _FiFi_."

  
They were bent double, almost howling, in the middle of a crowded shop in a packed mall, at the flustered Phoenix, bright red from the neck up, until Jamison (aided by his _If found, return to Roadhog_ t-shirt) was summoned by a sales assistant who was worried Asher's breathless shrieks he called laughing meant he was in some kind of distress. Mako, in his _If you found Junkrat, I'm not Roadhog_ t-shirt, had to explain the situation to a very confused cashier not paid _nearly_ enough- and the pile of clothes with long, spindly legs and tufts of wild blond hair.

  
With two of three elder-Fawkes' _thoroughly_ embarrassed, they paid and headed out, three blond heads pointed at the ground, with Mako's held high and in the best mood he could possibly be in, considering they were willingly making a bee-line back to their parents. _Surely,_ he thought _by now they'll have sobered up and most likely killed each other he paused ... and Kathleen too, since she hasn't called._

 

>   
>  _7 Missed Call(s)_  
>  _Kathleen 17:56_

  
Oh.

  
Fuck. _Fuck_.

  
He shoved Jamison's bags into the nearest chest, the nearest chest they were shoved into being Asher's, and he stumbled a few steps ahead as he called her back. Her last call was about twenty minutes ago, and she never called so much unless it was an _emergency_ , it was anything else she could handle it, and he hadn't even felt it go off, and now someone was dead and it was _his fault_ and-

  
"Mako?" She slurred.

  
Oh.

  
Oh _no_.

  
"Kathleen?!" He demanded. "You're drunk- _why are you drunk?!_ "

  
"Am _not_!" She protested, giggling slightly. "... Mum let m'have a _few_ , jus' a _few_!"

  
"You're too _young_."

  
"Nuh-uh, we're _eatin_ , the law says tha's o-ok... says tha's _okay_."

 

"We're on our way back _right now_." He huffed. "And you're in _big trouble_."

  
" _Good_ , bec'us a've been _callin_ ' ya fer _ages_ ta' take us 'ome."

  
"I thought there was an emergency!"

  
"There is! ... We can't get 'ome without ya!"

  
He promptly hung up and rubbed his hand over his face. He didn't have the patience for another week and a half of this. Did he say week and a half? This was only _day fucking two_. Whether his family were making amends or not, there was _no way_ he was letting this slide.

  
"Mako, mate, me love, listen..." Jamison appeared behind him, hand on his arm. "... We let 'er drink at our weddin', mate."

  
"That was _different_." He insisted. "After what happened, we _both_ needed a drink."

 

"She's almost a grown woman..."

 

"She's _my_ baby sister."

 

"Who can drink beer, wine or cider wi' a meal."

  
"Since when?" He scowled.

 

"Since about tha' 1970s..." He was awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

 

Mako shook his head. "I don't know why they're doing this..."

 

"Whatever keeps 'em in everyone's good graces." He shrugged.

 

"We best be heading back..." Phoenix interjected. "It's well gone seven."

 

"Sure, sure," He sighed. "... _And_ we haven't eaten."

 

"One problem at a time, mate."

 

 

  
They were on the road back home, the digital clock on the dashboard reading _20:48_. They didn't have time to eat in the end, just funnel everyone back into the cars and try to divide absolutely wankered relatives between licensed drivers. Mako took his parents and siblings in their car, Jamison took his parents and Phoenix in _their_ car, and Kai, Serafina and William were adamant they wanted to go with Asher when it was decided he'd drive Mako and Jamison's car home.

  
Mako's ride home was tense and awkward, between bouts of scolding his parents and sister, while Oliver and Isla sat in the very back seats very openly wishing they'd gotten into the car with Asher while they'd had the chance.

  
Jamison had taken to turning the radio up full, Mako could hear 70s and 80s classics from his car. He hadn't expected him to do any scolding, if he'd been left unattended with them, he would _also_ be in no position to drive.

  
Behind them both was Asher's car, and whenever there was a lull in the music from Jamison's car, Mako could hear the likes of _Sex Pistols_ , _Nirvana_ , _Queen_ , and many other bands he didn't recognise- some heavy, some not. It seemed to run in the family.

 

 

  
Thankfully, nobody had defiled the cars on the way home, and there were no stops along the way for such alcohol-fueled purposes. Back home was a different story, however, as Kathleen was put to bed with a bucket and Jamison had to sacrifice his only two wash tubs for his parents. It was just a precaution, but he was still back in his mood, and he spent it scowling at his desk as he scrolled _Facebook_ aimlessly.

  
"Lúcio's gonna propose ta' Hana..." He mumbled, clicking the chatbox open to reply.

  
"That's nice." Mako replied, splayed on the bed reading.

  
"Angie and Jack are expectin'."

  
"That's nice."

  
"... Sombra broke outta jail again."

  
"That's nice."

  
"... Hoggie, 'am pregnant."

  
"That's nice."

  
"See! I _knew_ ya weren't listenin'!"

  
"I hope it's a girl." He smiled pointedly.

 

"S'a nice sentiment, but it won't be comin' outta me."

 

"Such a shame. You'd make a great mother."

 

"Charmin'." He stretched his arms over his head, leaning back. "... So, about that _adoption_ thing..."

  
"Mmm...?" He wasn't looking at the book anymore.

  
"... _When_?"

  
"Whenever you want."

  
"It doesn't jus' _happen_ , ya know..."

 

"I know."

 

"So... _When_?"

 

"We'll look into it as soon as they're gone."

 

Satisfied, he went back to his aimless scrolling.

 

"Johnny asked if ya changed ya number."

 

"Yeah, tell 'im I'll call 'im..."

 

"Says it's urgent."

 

He paused, just for a second, then bolted upright and grabbed his phone off its charger. This might _actually_ be an _actual_ emergency, and if it wasn't, so help him Johnny was a _dead man_.

 

He picked up on the second ring.

 

"Mako?" His oldest friend, and first contact in the club, answered.

 

"This had better be an _emergency_." He stressed, voice low. "What's wrong?"

 

"... M'gettin' married." He almost whispered.

 

"... What?" He asked, stunned.

 

" _Married_ , Mako." He repeated. Mako swore he could _hear_ him grinning.

 

"That's..." He was still shocked. "Johnny, that's _great_..." He smiled. "Who's the lucky lady?" He smirked, to a bemused chuckle.

 

" _Very_ funny. C'mon, guess."

 

"John-"

 

" _Guess_!"

 

"Hmm... Is it... Dave?"

 

"Nope."

 

"Richie?"

 

"Nah."

 

"... Rob?"

 

" _Rob_?!"

 

He chuckled. "Nah, just kidding... Tony...?"

 

"S'like you don't know me at _all_ , mate."

 

He grinned. " _Johnny and Clyde_ , eh? Sounds like a movie..."

 

"I'm pretty sure there's a porno out there that's already claimed that title. But... Yeah, _Johnny and Clyde_."

 

" _They're young... they're in love_."

 

"Anythin' but young, mate."

 

"But still _so_ in love." He quipped.

 

"Aye, all I need is me best man..."

 

" _Ooo_ , who you gonna ask?" He gushed, jokingly.

 

" _Well_ , I _was_ thinkin' of askin' Alf, make me look better at the altar. Can't have me best mate Mako makin' me look bad at me own weddin', can I?"

 

"Now that _would_ be a tragedy."

 

Their laughter tapered off, before Johnny got serious again.

 

"So... Will ya? Be me best man?"

 

"Course.

 

"Good. I'll tell Clyde, and, uh... Have a good Christmas an' all that."

 

"You, too, John."

 

"So?" Jamison asked, after he hung up. "I mean, I _think_ I got the gist, but I'd like to know why me 'usband was swoonin' like a teenage girl in me bed."

 

"Johnny's engaged." He said, only just realising how _little_ he actually knew about this, since he hadn't thought to ask. "... To Clyde."

 

"Well I got _that_ bit!" He grinned. "Didn't know Clyde swung tha' way."

 

He shrugged. "Got good at hidin' it. Was a different time, back then."

 

"I shudder jus' thinkin' about it."

 

 

 

Clyde and Johnny were both from the UK, Clyde from the South and Johnny from the North, no one knew exactly where, because that was their business, and knowing other peoples' business could get you killed, just the same as having other people know _your_ business. They met in their late teens, Johnny had told Mako it was 1986. He was 17, in London for the first time, on his own and on the streets, when he met 19 year old Clyde in a pub and they just... Got talking. Clyde showed him this whole new world, while the world was going to shit, AIDS was rampant and the Health Minister was rounding people up and keeping them in the hospitals against their will. They left the UK together in '94, Clyde had family in Australia who would help them out, take them away from living in fear in a shithole apartment in London, surrounded by students hell-bent on destruction and anarchy without the balls to do anything about it. What they _got_ was a quick and quiet initiation into the club, back when it was just a group of tough guys wearing leather and looking for an easy fight, with _strict_ instructions to keep their mouths shut and _just act natural_. It was his uncle _Red_ 's club, and they called themselves _Red's Riders_.

 

It wasn't until a year later that he and Mako even met. It was 1995. He was 26, drowning his sorrows in a bar, when a tall, handsome stranger with long blond hair held back with a red bandana, striking blue eyes and dressed all in black leather walked in. He shared a nod with the mysterious stranger, offered him a drink, and, before he could _insist_ it was all casual- before _either_ of their faces could be rearranged- he said yes. But then _he_ insisted it _was_ just casual- because he was taken. With a maybe _slightly_ distasteful _Call me if that doesn't work out_ , they were friends. The next year, Mako was part of the club. He was only a member for _two_ years when he and Red were caught on a job. Red took the fall, the club was raided, Mako got off with three years and, with Johnny and Clyde, rekindled the club- with Clyde as their new leader. _The Red Death_ , simply known as _The Reds_ , were operating out of a nightclub, with an almost exclusively homosexual clientele, but Clyde's justification was that _we protect them, they stay loyal to us._ Word got around the gay underbelly of the city fast, a place where anybody could just be themselves with guaranteed protection from hundreds of _very intimidating_ highly armed bikers? Business was booming in _no_ time.

 

Come 2009, Jamison was 17, fresh[ly kicked] out of college, looking to get pissed and find a potential lay, he stumbled into _The Red Room_ , the hottest nightclub for miles. Trying to get wankered but caught out with a fake ID, his eyes met Mako's from across the hazy dancefloor, and he got _completely_ shitfaced on Mako's dime. Thus began a beautiful friendship, and... yeah.

 

"Where they goin'? For tha' weddin'?"

 

He shrugged. "Didn't say."

 

"Never been ta' England..." He sighed, dreamily.

 

"Might be sooner than you think- he asked _me_ to be his best man."

 

" _Oooo_!"

 

"That's what I said." He grinned.

 

"Well, I'm 'appy for 'em, bleedin' _ecstatic_." He smiled. "Hope their weddin' goes better than ours. Wha's 'is parents like?"

 

"Never met 'em." He shrugged.

  
"They never talk about 'em?"

 

"Nah."

 

"Think they might? Like, at the weddin'?"

 

"Maybe."

 

  
"Who's invited?"

 

  
"S'early days." He _gently_ reminded him. It was _much_ more polite than _Babe, shut the fuck up_.

 

  
"Yer right- took us _months_ to finish our guest list!"

 

He nodded, but didn't mention that Johnny and Clyde would, most likely, only have themselves and a minister. They didn't have many friends they trusted this closely, coming out or not.

 

"... Are they even gonna _tell_ anyone? Like... the club?"

 

"Doubt it."

 

"... Tha's... _Really_ sad, when ya think about it..."

 

He nodded. He'd never really given it _much_ thought, he was always just... Who he was. But they had _never_ been, and that really was just... _Really_ fucking sad.

 

As it turned out, _tomorrow_ would also be _really fucking sad_.

 

 

 

The day started ordinarily enough, Mako was up bright and early, only, this time, his parents weren't hiding upstairs. They were at the table, sipping coffee, smiling politely and exchanging their polite _good mornings_ as people slowly emerged. Breakfast was light, because Jamison insisted they'd be going out for dinner today, the 23rd of December. He did _not_ appreciate going to bed hungry. He _also_ insisted Mako gather his portfolio, because they'd be signing him up for the exhibition today.

 

"Exhibition?" Joyce asked, reaching for another slice of toast.

 

"Mako's gonna show off his paintin's, all official like." He beamed.

 

"That's lovely." She smiled. "You're very talented, Mako."

 

"Thanks." He grunted. He had a feeling she wasn't being genuine, but he didn't press it.

 

"What about you, Jay?" She asked, surprisingly. She even used his nickname, _Jay_ , which was what pretty much _everyone_ , excluding his mother, called him. Mako's eyebrows shot up so far, they may as well have been in orbit. "Got anything special planned for today?"

 

"Me? Uh, well, I _was_ plannin' on goin' an seein' me big sister wi' me family after..."

 

"Oh, that's nice." She smiled. Nobody elaborated further, Mako didn't know if it was awkward for them, he'd only heard them talk about her a couple times around the _happiest time of the year_. The matter was, instead, dropped.

 

 

  
Just after noon, while the sun was still high in the sky, and Mako's name was on the paperwork for the exhibition in February, they pulled into a dilapidated stretch of cracked tarmac lined with faded white lines signifying that this was once a car park, and one that has seen much use over the decades. They solemnly stepped out and navigated the bare, jutting branches of overgrowth, filing through the wrought iron gates and onto an unlevel path of concrete slabs. The eastern part of the cemetery, which is where they were now walking, was unkempt, and the gravestones crumbling and worn, faded photographs and letters and dead flowers sparsely decorating them. No one spoke a word, but they all shared a momentary thought for the buried and forgotten as they passed, and for the whole families reunited six feet under. As they neared the western side, they finally turned off the path and down the rows of stone.

 

>   
>  **Ruby Fawkes**  
>  **April 13th 1989 - November 25th 1997**

 

There was a poem underneath, not one that Mako recognised, but he slipped his arm around Jamison's shoulders as they honoured the Fawkes' firstborn. _A month before Christmas._ He always found himself thinking. No time is right to lose a child, but a month before what's supposed to be the happiest season of the entire year? He'd expected them to be absolutely devastated, a blow they could never recover from, but, while they would never recover, they soldiered on- told themselves it was for the sake of their surviving children, they'd almost lost Jamison that day, too, not that he'd ever shared that with anyone, but it was mostly just for each other. Moreover, themselves. They'd remember her, never forget her, but they had to just keep moving forward.

 

They left flowers on her grave- orchids, her favourite. Jamison's, too. Mako could never stop himself thinking _What if it was Jamison down there, instead?_ when they laid the orchids. He hoped it would never be something he'd have to do. He'd always prided himself on his lack of emotion, never letting anything get to him, or, at least, never _showing_ it. But now everything was different, and new, and it was all because of that toothy grin, wild blond hair and shrill laugh.

 

 

  
After the cemetery, they paid a final visit to the winter markets, and reconvened at a nice-looking restaurant away from the hustle and bustle of the city centre.

 

With their meals ordered and onto their second drinks, the conversation began. Light-hearted and polite at first, it soon headed where they all expected in under ten minutes.

 

"If you don't mind my asking..." Joyce began.

 

"Ruby?" Amber asked.

 

"... Well, yes..."

 

"What would you like to know?" She asked, simply. Neither too warmly or too coldly, just... Simply. How else would you talk about your departed child?

 

"She was so _young_... What happened...?"

 

Amber shrugged. "She was eight." She started, not knowing _where else_ to begin. "Lovely little girl, bright red hair, beautiful smile, very kind, very sweet..." She inhaled deeply and sighed. "There was a girl I went to school with, Ferne, lived across the road from us. Had no control over her kids, but we took no notice back then, we were only twenty-five and had _three_..." She quickly finished off the rest of her glass of wine, Phoenix went to get her some more. "She had three as well, eldest was fourteen, she was only three years older than me. Other two were eleven and nine, and they were all friends, Phoenix was seven and Jamie was five..." She trailed off. "They were too rough, never should have let them _near_ our house, but she was always out and her husband had cleared off by then, so I used to let them come 'round after school."

 

"What did they do?" Joyce asked, carefully.

 

"Got their hands on some fireworks, didn't they. Big, _open_ box of them, and some matches. Came knocking on the door, said they had something to show her, I told her..." She stumbled over her words slightly. "Told her she had to take her little brothers with her, or else she'd have to stay in, I'd had a busy day, I was expecting Asher and just wanted some peace and quiet..." She paused to wipe her eyes, sip her wine, and continued. "So they took them onto the field, only five minutes away, started setting them off. I heard them, thought it was just some teenagers messing about, didn't think for a minute it could be them. Didn't even think to nip out and check." Mako had never actually considered that they'd feel _guilty_ about it, it had always been clear to him, _crystal clear_ , that it wasn't their fault at all. He suddenly felt less certain about adoption, anything mundane could go wrong and completely change your life... _Forever_.

 

"How did..." Joyce trailed off, not even knowing _how_ to ask.

 

"Phoenix comes running in, it was getting dark, and he was always a good boy, just thought he'd gotten tired of playing or didn't want me to worry... But he was _terrified_ , and crying, and he had soot on his face and his coat was burned. It didn't even register at first, I just thought he'd fallen or..." She shook her head. "But then he was just _screaming_ , _Mummy, mummy, they've killed them!_ And I didn't even _think_ , I just... Grabbed him, and ran. They'd set the box on fire, somehow, swore it was an accident, but I don't think they did it on purpose... They'd run home before I got there, of course, and my babies were just _lying_ there, in the mud..."

 

"... Jamison, too?" She asked, quietly.

 

She nodded slowly. "I told Phoenix to run to the nearest house, keep trying until someone phoned an ambulance. I just knelt beside them, cried, tried to keep them awake. Ruby was all..." Her face contorted to pure _anguish_. "... Burnt up." She recoiled like the words themselves had just set her alight. "And my Jamie was just staring at her, and I was holding his leg tight, couldn't see the other half." Her eyes darkened and she let out a short chuckle, one that seemed to surprise even her. "Felt like an eternity before the ambulance got there, felt like I'd died everytime I looked at _my babies_ like that... I'll never forget..." Her voice was low, almost a whisper. "Little raspy breaths, lying on her back, looking up at the stars. _It's hot, mummy._ Prayed to God, begged him to fix this, make her more comfortable..."

 

"... Then what happened?"

 

She chuckled darkly. "It started to snow."

 

"... That's awful, Amber, I can't imagine... Is that...?" She motioned to Jamison's prostheses.

 

"Mm." She finished her third glass of whine. "There was nothing they could do for Ruby, she was in such pain... Five days, and she was gone. _Five minutes_ and I could have checked on her, saved her life... Couldn't save Jamie's arm or leg, either..." She patted his shoulder and they shared a sad smile. As it turned out, Jamison _had_ lost his limbs _explosively_ , as he'd said.

 

"I couldn't imagine... Losing a child..." Joyce frowned, giving her forearm a squeeze.

 

She smiled, however sadly, and gave Joyce's hand a squeeze in return. "Thank you."

 

" _Pregnant_ as well..." She shook her head.

 

They all shared a silent, solitary moment to digest what they'd just heard.

 

"... Christ." Jamison was the first to speak. "It's almost _Christmas_ , Ruby _loved_ Christmas! Let's all be 'appy, or else _she_ won't be happy." He urged.

 

"... You're right." Amber nodded, drying her eyes. "You're right, Jamie. It's been twen-..." She trailed off, realising it had been twenty years _this November_ since they'd lost her, and it had completely slipped their minds. " _Twenty years..._ " She whispered.

 

Jamison gave her shoulder a gentle shake. "An' we saw her, mum... She _hated_ it when ya were sad..."

 

She nodded. "Yes. You're _right_ , Jamie..." She cleared her throat and sat upright, being hunched over her drink as she told her story, stretching her back.

 

"... It's snowin'...." Asher quietly added.

 

"... Like she's listenin'." Phoenix smiled. "See, mum? She's here, too."

 

She smiled at her boys, and Mako considered, _does she see her family and always feel like something's missing?_ He knew that feeling, but with Jamison, it all felt... Not _complete_ , but... Not like something was _missing_ anymore. He didn't think he could bear to always feel that, as though a part of him were missing, a hollow in his chest that only a bumbling Australian could hope to fill. He sighed.

 

He gave Jamison's hand a squeeze under the table. He smiled up at him, he smiled back. They couldn't think of anything to say, so they just took the time to sit back and enjoy their moment of peace.

 

As it turned out, just two days was enough for a Rutledge-family-redemption-arc. He just hoped it would stick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's by complete coincidence that this chapter was finished on the 25th of November.
> 
> Please remember to leave Kudos if you're enjoying the story, or just want to make my day, I love reading your comments and if you wanted to speak to me directly: my Tumblr is the same username.


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